


It's All About Family

by scruffandyarn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Depression, Family Issues, Gen, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 13:00:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2851607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scruffandyarn/pseuds/scruffandyarn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas is definitely not your favorite holiday and it hasn’t been for a while now.  You’d much rather just have it pass without notice, just like any other day.  Too bad the archangel in your living room didn’t get the memo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's All About Family

**DEC 1**

.

You cringed as you stepped through the front doorway of your apartment.  This was most definitely not how you’d left it.  In fact, you were almost tempted to just turn around and walk back out.  Maybe find a hole-in-the-wall motel you could stay at for the next few weeks.  By then, all this shit would be over.

“Hey, ______, you’re home.” Your roommate of nearly six months, Gabriel-the-fricking-archangel, was sitting in the middle of your living room, tangled up in a pile of Christmas lights.

“Gabriel, what the hell is all this?” You waved your hand towards the monstrous tree that was leaning against the couch and shedding pine needles all over the furniture and the floor.

“It’s a tree.” He rolled his eyes and smiled.  “You didn’t have any decorations, so I remedied that.”

“You know, Gabriel, there’s a reason I didn’t have any decorations.” You tried not to growl as you walked past him to the kitchen.  

You were not drunk enough for this.

“Well, it’s OK, because I got them for you.”

You spun around to see him smiling up at you.  You sighed, not wanting to completely crush his spirit with your cynicism.  

“Yeah, OK.  Thanks.”  You forced a smile to your face.  “I, uh, I’m gonna call it a night now, I think.  Long day at work.”

“Oh.” He frowned slightly.  “Well, maybe this weekend we can decorate the tree?”

“Maybe.”

.  
.

**DEC 5**

.

“So, tomorrow?”

You looked up from your book, eyebrow cocked.  Gabriel took that as his invitation to step further into your room.

“What’s tomorrow?”

“Saturday—you know, the weekend?”  He was hinting at something, but you were drawing a blank.  “Come on, ______, you promised we could decorate the tree!”

“I promised nothing, Gabriel.” You rolled your eyes.  “And I have work to do.”

“It can wait until Monday, ______.  It’s the first weekend in December and we _need_ to decorate our tree.” He was practically bouncing.

“You can decorate your tree, Gabriel.  I’ve got stuff that needs to be done.  You know, since I’m the one working.”

He hmphed and folded his arms across his chest.  “I told you I could take care of all that.”

“And I told you that wasn’t going to work.  Once you’re no longer on the run from heaven, who’s going to pay the bills around here?  Hmmm?  Oh, yeah—that’s right.   _Me._ ”  You pointed emphatically to yourself.  “I’m not quitting my job just to find myself high and dry when you go home.”

“______, it’s _one_ weekend.” He never liked talking about heaven with you, and you’d hoped bringing it up would end this conversation.

“No.”  You turned your attention back to your book.

“Why are you such a Grinch?”

“Why are you such a Cindy-Lou-Who?” You looked up to see him smirking at you.  That was never good.  “What?”

“Surprised you know who Cindy-Lou-Who is.”

“Gabriel,” you dog-eared your page and set your book down next to you on your bed.  “Christmas isn’t that important to me.  I’m not trying to rain on your parade, it’s just—it’s lost it’s meaning for me.”

“I feel like you’re referring to something other than just the crazy commercialism.” Now he looked worried.  Not your intention at all.  

He walked over at sat at the foot of your bed, waiting.

“It’s not a big deal.  I’m—and I feel like this is the weirdest thing I could say to an actual angel—I’m not religious.”

“You don’t have to be religious to get in the Christmas spirit, ______.  Talk to me.”

“What’s there to talk about?  I don’t like Christmas.”

“How can you not like Christmas?  It’s all about family and love and togetherness.” He threw his hands up in exasperation.

“I just don’t.”  You were tired of this.  “Please don’t ask me about it again.”  You pushed yourself up from your bed and walked over to your door.  Then you gestured for him to leave.  “I will try really hard not to be a complete Grinch if you just leave this alone.”

He sighed in what you could only hope was defeat and headed out of your room.  “Alright, ______. I won’t ask about it again.”

.

True to his word, Gabriel didn’t ask about it again.  He did, however, decorate every inch of your apartment for the coming holiday, insist on playing carols the moment you woke to the moment you fell asleep, and keep the kitchen stocked with a seemingly endless supply of eggnog and sugar cookies.

.  
.

**DEC 13**

.

“Rise and shine, ______!”

You jolted from your bed at the sound of Gabriel’s voice.  You found him standing in your doorway, a bright red santa hat on his head.

“You ready?”

“For…?” You wiped the sleep from your eyes.  “This better be a damned emergency.”

“It is!”  He insisted, crossing to you and shoving you gently in the direction of your closet.  “There’s only a few shopping days left, and I know you haven’t purchased my gift yet.  So I’m going to help you pick it out.”

“For fuck’s sake, Gabriel—you’re an angel.  Aren’t you supposed to be above all this materialism shit?”

“______, presents, for me.  Shiny wrapping paper and a nametag addressed to yours truly.  Crinkly tissue paper and glossy bags and big red bows.  Hellz no, I am not above this.”  

You dropped your head.  What the hell was wrong with him?  How had you ended up with a defective angel in your life?

“I’m not defective, ______.  But you seem to have forgotten that I once played a god.  You know, after people start sacrificing to you, you begin to get a little…”

“Needy?” You supplied.

“I was going to say appreciative, thank you very much.” He stuck his tongue out at you and you couldn’t help but smile at his petulance.  “That’s all it takes to get you to cheer up?”

“I’m cheerful.” You insisted.

“Sure you are.”

“Don’t be an asshole.” You motioned for him to leave so you could get dressed.  

He didn’t leave, but he did turn around.

“Why don’t you just tell me what you want and I can order it online or something?” You sighed, but began changing.

“Where’s the fun in that?  Besides, I’ve got some shopping of my own I need to take care of.”

“Shopping?  Can’t you just snap your fingers and have whatever you want?”

“Sometimes it’s not about the item, but the effort you put into making someone else happy.”

Huh.  Deep thought coming from someone who used to spend his days torturing people.

“I didn’t torture everyone, ______.  Just the people who deserved it.”

“Stop reading my mind, Gabriel,” you growled.

.

You turned from the store-front window to stare, flabbergasted, at the angel standing next to you.  He couldn’t be serious.

“What the hell do you want a toy train for?”

“They’re fun!” He grabbed your arm and began to pull you into the store.  Reluctantly, you allowed yourself to be pulled along, even though, really—it wasn’t like you could actually stop him.

“Can I help you with anything?” The kind-looking lady behind the counter asked once you were inside.

“I’m here to buy a train set for the giant child who just pulled me in here.”

She grinned and the two of you watched as Gabriel darted over towards the train sets, glee very evident.  “It’s great to see adults with the Christmas spirit.”

“Sure,” you hedged.

“You alright?” She looked at you curiously.

“Christmas just isn’t my bag.” You shrugged, reaching for your wallet.

“Well, it’s nice that you’re at least making the effort for him.  It’s so sad to see how many adults don’t.  Their kids just get crushed.  Heartbreaking to watch, actually.  The fact that you’re letting him keep it still,” she paused, “He’s a lucky guy.”

A genuine smile formed on your face as you watched Gabriel clap in delight as one of the trains let out a shrill whistle.  Of course, he’d pick the one that made an awful noise.  He looked back over at you, grin wide, almost glowing.  And not from his being an angel.  No.  That glow was sheer happiness.

Who were you to destroy that?

“We’ll take that one.” You turned to the woman.  “And…”

.

“What’s in the box?”

“Nothing you’re ever going to see if you keep pestering me.” You kept the surprise gift tucked under your arm while letting him carry his new train set.  “You already know about the train, so this one has to stay a secret until Christmas.”

That stopped him dead in his tracks.  “______, are you getting into the Christmas spirit?”

“I swear to your father, Gabriel, if you give me a hard time about this, I will remove every one of the decorations from the apartment, and you can kiss that tree goodbye.”

“Would I do something like that?” He asked innocently.

“Yes, you would.”

He grinned.  “OK, true.  But this—it’s nice.”

.  
.

**DEC 21**

.

Four more days.  You’d been keeping everything tamped down, for Gabriel’s sake, but it all came roaring back, just four days before Christmas.

“I made pancakes!”

Instead of answering, you rolled over and curled yourself around your pillow.  Couldn’t you just have one year reprieve?

“______, did you hear me?  I made pancakes!  They’re even in the shape of little trees and—______?”

“Go away, Gabriel.”

“What’s wrong?”

You felt the bed shift as he sat down beside you.  “What part of ‘go away’ did you not understand?” You rolled over to face him, glaring.

“You’ve been crying.”

“No shit.” You rolled your eyes.  “Go away.”

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“You promised you wouldn’t ask.  Keep your promise and get the hell out of my room.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?  This is my fucking apartment.”

“I don’t care.  I’m not leaving you alone like this.  It’s too close to Christmas for you to be feeling—”

“New flash, Gabriel—Christmas is bullshit.  This whole togetherness and family and love doesn’t exist.” You lashed out.  “And Jesus wasn’t even fucking born in December.  Give. It. Up.”

“Do you know what I love most about Christmas?”

“No.” His change of topic caught you off-guard.  “And I don’t w—”

“The very first Christmas,” he ignored you and pressed on.  “The very first Christmas—that was my most important job.  Dad let me be the one to announce the birth of the Christ-child.   _I_ got to be the one to deliver the message.  Not Michael.  Not Raphael.  Me.”  His smile was tainted by an underlying sadness.  “Christmas reminds me of that.  Reminds me that He loved me.”

“Well, at least Christmas reminds _someone_ that their father loved them.” You couldn’t help the bitterness in your voice.  It was absolutely crazy how parallel Christmas was for you and Gabriel.  Only, you were both sitting at opposite ends of the spectrum.

“Tell me?” He implored.  “Please?”

“I was fifteen.  It was a long time ago.  I’m fine.”  You could see the light in his eyes begin to shadow over.

Did you really want to taint his reminder of his Father’s love?

“OK, maybe I’m not fine.” You sighed and ran a hand through your hair.  “But really, there’s nothing you can do to fix it.”

“I could try.”

The corner of your mouth rose of its own volition at the determination in his voice.  “Maybe later.” You pushed yourself up to sit.  “Right now, we should get to those pancakes before they get cold.”

.  
.

**DEC 24**

.

“Here.”

You looked up from your book to see Gabriel carrying a brightly wrapped present as he entered your room.

“What’s all this?”  You dog eared the page and set your book aside, scooting your feet back as he placed the gift at the foot of your bed.

“This is _our_ Christmas celebration.” He smiled.  “Christmas day obviously holds some pretty horrible memories for you, so we’re going to skip tomorrow and celebrate today.”

“Wha—?”

“You were right.  Nothing special happened December 25th, so what does it matter if we celebrate on a different day?”

“Gabriel, I’m better now.  Everything’s all nicely tucked away and I’ll be alright for tomorrow.”

“Nope.  I’ve made up my mind, and you’re just going to have to deal.  You and I will be exchanging gifts on December 24th from here on out.”  You cocked an eyebrow at his implication for the future.  “Oh, what?  You think I’m just going to disappear off to heaven when all this shit is over with and completely forget about my favorite human?”  You shrugged.  “You wound me, ______.  I’m not heartless.”

“No, but you are soulless.”

“That was horrible.”

“Yeah, but you love it.”  You both smirked.  “Alright, fine.  December 24th will be our new Christmas.  Happy now?”

“I’ll be happy when you finally let me see what’s in that other box you got from the toy store.”

“How are you not five?”

“How have you not given me my present yet?” He countered.

You rolled your eyes.  “Fine.”  You got off the bed and walked over to your closet.  You pulled out the box you’d tucked away almost two weeks prior and returned to stand next to him.  “Remember, it’s not the gift, it’s the effort.”  You handed him the package.

A small smile graced your face as you watched him rip open the wrapping paper and tear off the cardboard.  Your smile grew when you saw a look of wonder in his eyes.

“You got me a conductor’s hat?”

“For when you’re playing with your train.  I figured it would feel more authentic.  And,” you reached into the hat and pulled out a small wooden object.  “It wouldn’t be complete without a real train whistle.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re fun.”

His responding grin lit up his entire face.  “You bet they are!” He put on the hat and blew the whistle loudly.

“Don’t make me regret getting that for you.” You chuckled.

“Your turn.” He handed you the gift he’d brought in.

You eyed it, turning it over in your hands.  He huffed in impatience and you laughed before finally ripping open the paper.

In your hands was a picture frame.  The picture behind the glass was one of you and Gabriel—one you couldn’t remember having had taken.  But you remembered the moment that had been captured.

You’d been knee-deep in paperwork, trying to make sense of it all before work the next day.  You’d felt stressed and overwhelmed and near tears, when Gabriel had come into the room.  With a few light-hearted words, he’d managed to melt away all of your stress and coax a smile on your face.  The hug in the photograph had been the result of the respite he’d given you.

But the picture itself was only half of what had you on the verge of waterworks just then.  The frame—or rather, the words carved into the frame—had a wave of emotion washing over you as well.  ‘Family’ was etched across the top and ‘You are loved’ was across the bottom.

“Gabriel, I—” You looked up at him, your eyes glassed over with unshed tears.

“I know you didn’t want me reading your mind, but I kinda already knew about what happened with your dad.”  He was staring at the frame in your hands, as if he couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eye.  Finally, though, he did lift his gaze to meet yours.  “He missed out.  You are an amazing person and friend.  And you’ve been more of a family to me than my own ever was.  And I hope it goes both ways.”

“It does.”  You set the frame gently on your bed before wrapping him in a hug.  “Thank you.  So much.” You cried into his shirt.

“Merry Christmas, ______.”

“Merry Christmas, Gabriel.”


End file.
